44

Silently sitting there.
So serene.

The world in chaos and turmoil around her.
Like an eternal lotus blossom
glowing from within
eyes closed
peaceful smile.

Not a thing disturbs her.
The ground is shaking
flames
gunshots blazing
screaming and crying
bombs falling
heaven ripping apart.

43

Even though you might not believe it,
you are a part of this conversation.

I will not let you leave until you've heard me out.
Until you have thought about what I've said,
and commented it.

You are constantly wrapped up in yourself,
tight and whirley.
That makes you forget you are a part of the rest of us.
Dizzy, head in the clouds, absent minded.
Wake up for gods sake!
Answer something else than "huh?"!

42

42

41

It almost changed everything.
Now it didn´t.
I don´t know what that means,
if it means anything at all.

I don´t know if I should give it more thought.

I checked the facts.
It´s common,
it happens one time of two.
Destiny flipping a coin.

You can´t be wallowing in the what-ifs.
But still...
What if?

40

39

38

37

36

Within you is forever.
Your eternal soul,
semicorporeal magic.

Little lightnings of reality
with every touch of your fingertips
connects your spirit with the everlasting memory.

The world mind.
The whispers in the wind
the ghosts
the deja vús.

You are the elongation of your soul.
The instrument of your mind.
The plaything of your spirit.

Did you really think you were just a human?

35

Come on...
Have a little faith in me...
I promise you
nothing will go wrong.

Get on...
Jump on this moving train with me.
Take on the world with me.
Stand by my side
and I will stand by yours
when the world tries to strike back at us.

We will win...
We will rise up above it all.
Stand victorious, hand in hand and laugh...

If you only dare...

34

Rainbow and drops of rain
in the iris of her eye.

In her stare you find
the freedom of the sky.

You know you can't make her smile
but you know you have to try.

This sadeyed lady of the mist
just wish she could more than cry.

33

There is wisdom in defeat.
So I was told
pupil at the school of war.

Though surrender may be wise
at times,
in it there is no honor.

Think yourself king
hiding and feuding on a chessboard.

Plan in four dimensions.
Sceme and plot and feint.
Use all tools and tricks you've learned,
all those times you ended up in check mate.

32

Awake and aware.
The ceiling is where it was yesterday evening.

Yet there is still something.
You can't put your finger on it.
Has there been anybody here?

The curtain is down.
The lights are off.

Then you see it.
The heart pinned on the wall.

31

The curtain is ripped anda single ray of light falls
on the little one kneeling in the dust.
Above her head the trapezes rocks side to side.
Soon they will be still with only memories of long gone firm grips.
The tent is empty now.
The absence of the brass orchestra
and the emptiness after childrens laughter and awe
haunts the little one sitting in the sand.
In the middle of the ring.
The once lighted manege.
Tears clean becomes dirty
on the cheeks dusted with makeup.
Resulting in stripes in the face of the little one.
No hoofbeats.
No lions roar.
The circus is dark,
all that remains is the clown.

30

29

Key in lock.
Turn.
Open door.
Two steps in.
Shoes off.
Call hello.
Gloves in pocket.
Jacket on hanger.
Enter room.
See my love.
Smile.
Kiss my love.
Lips against lips.
Perfect ending.

28

The monsters from the depths of human imagination,
in their infancy they claw with numb talons
on the walls of our understanding.

Reaching, growling,
drooling, howling,
tongues flashing like lightnings.

Bewildered eyes not gripping the reality of existance,
the idea of sight and blurry visions.
Limbo some say, where these monstrous creatures dwell,
made semireal by the tales we tell our sons and daughters.
Haunting their closets and breathing loudly under their beds.

Fur and scales
horns and fangs
tails and wings
growing on them as we tell them to.
In our stories they are slain, lying bloody in their remains.
In our minds heroes are forgotten, warriors deeds fade away.
But the monsters we created with our imagination.
The creatures they stay.

27

It's very quiet.
Not a thing can be heard
as the dust settles on the surfaces.

It is a dense silence.
It fills the air
like a thickness or a fluid,
careful not to get noticed.

There was a light
and a blow.
Silent.

Now there is dust,
settling on the sufaces.
And the silence.

26

When did you stop believing?
Mr Bunny is still waiting for the second cup
of imaginary tea.

You remember what flavour he wants.
The sweet flavour of strawberrys and mommys perfume.
Imported from Shangri La.

Brought to your childhoods garden
on mighty galleons of bark.

When did the world shrink?
To be fitted into what you could explain.
To be only what you could see before you.

When will you sit down on the grass again
stare up towards the heavens,
and see animals and heroes in the clouds?

Perhaps never.
But a part of you will always want to.

25

24

It's deafening,
loud beyond comprehension.

Like a thunder,
that doesn't bother to use your ears.

Cracking bangs.
Rolling waves of sound against you.

The sky has ripped apart.
The ground swallowed itself whole.
This is it.
The end.

23

That redbricked building.
Still standing there like a tombstone.
A reminder of the long dead childhood.

Large windows.
Black and empty in the night.
Schoolclock now standing still in eternal recess.

It's hauntingly empty.
Like it has no soul any longer.
A schoolhouse has no purpose at night.

The angles of the big red house,
now seem different.
In the moonlight,
and seen through a grownups eyes.

22

The world keeps turning.
Planetwise around the sun,
the center of our solarsystem.

In reality,
the world,
if you see it from my point of view...

It turns around me.
It turns around you.
It turns around the man on the corner smoking his cigarette.

All these worlds in a world.
All these realities as true as each other
coexisting in chaos and harmony.

Wonderful.
Magic.

21

Whispers in the attic.
Like little gusts of air through the cracks
in the ceiling.

Creaking noices from above.
Something moving.
Something light.
We have nothing up there have we?

Ladder down.
Squeaking against the floorboards
as we ascend into the dusty cramped space.
Nothing up there.
Nothing at all.

20

Fallen deeply, I am.
I did not try to get a grip.
I enjoyed the ride.

A ride that is far from over.
Falling... Strange word for it.
Feels like rising,
waking up.

Days brighter,
burdens lighter.

This is only an interpretation of the world
in a greater state of mind.

Doesn't make it any less true.

19

So heavy,
my eyelids are.

My steps,
stumbling.

I am so tired.
Hard of hearing.
Blurry vision.

Soon will come the light of day,
waking me up with assistance of coffee.

18

In fallen empires,
where forgotten heroes dwell.

Green fields,
hiding the scars of long gone wars.

Ruins of mighty castles,
where kings and queens once ruled.

These places of legend,
that never will be told.
Lost whispers of fairytales play in the wind.

17

I´m down on the floor,
begging for mercy.

The chilly hard surface of the silencer,
pressed against my forehead.

There is a coldness in his eyes,
his lips tightened and white.

As I close my eyes,
tears on my cheeks and on the carpet below me.
The icy hollow cylinder is gone.
And so is the killer.

16

Cry, cry, cry!
Like it's the last time you'll ever be sad.

Scream, scream, scream!
Like it's the last time you'll ever be mad.

Laugh, laugh, laugh!
Like it's the last time you'll ever be glad.

The past is a memory
The future, illusion
The now is the only time that you ever had.

15

Wind in her hair.
Making it seem alive, wild, furious.

The red and the gold,
tugged by the wind,
where she stands,
dressed in green.

Big boots on her feet.
Great joy in her eyes.
A scarf her mother gave her.

14

Light up some candles.
Whistle some tunes.

Draw circles with crayons,
and fill them with runes.

Call forth the Devil,
Maybe he'll play.

But tunes, circles,
runes and light.
Better be right or the Devil will stay.